The Handmaiden's Tale
by Nuova Luna
Summary: Set after the events of Yamatai, Lara is thrown into a world where it seems everyone knows her name. Trying to escape the past Lara finds that not all she believes in is true and that her life is not always what she chooses, but what is thrust upon her.
1. Chapter 1

_If you enjoy this please see my other story involving the 'new' Lara "Rebirth of a Saga" that I wrote before the new game was released _

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The ruby sky bled into the horizon as hordes of iron clad Oni jumped from the wooden turrets, running towards her. She knew that this was it, there were too many of the vicious fighters for her tired body to fight off. Firing arrow after arrow into the oncoming mass, she turned and ran. Just run, run and survive. She could hear her heart thumping between her ears as a hand grabbed her arm, peering down she saw a sword embedded into her stomach.

"Excuse me...Miss Croft, Miss Croft?" A female voice came from somewhere in the distance, "Are you okay? We are about to make our decent, could you please put your seatbelt on?"

Lara flickered her eyes at the increasing light, trying to split her dreams from reality. A cold sweat trickled down her back and her fingernails dug into her palms drawing a drop of blood. Returning to the present was a shock to Lara's system, she had no idea long she had been asleep, though she knew it had not been long enough.

Arriving into Heathrow airport was something Lara thought she would never do again. Yamatai was not just a struggle physically but also mentally, she really thought she would die there like thousands of others before her. Looking outside the window she saw the familiar runway lights and cold British rain thrashing down on the tarmac. A small tear welled up in the corner of her eye, though she didn't have the energy to let it fall any further.

"Miss Croft, would you mind waiting for the other passengers to leave the plane? We'll organise you a wheelchair to the arrival lounge." The effortlessly smiley flight attendant was back again grinning her orders.

"I don't need a wheelchair. Thank you." Lara stated as she unclipped her seatbelt.

"I believe you had one from Tokyo? It has been written on my notes that you need assistance."

"I'm fine, honestly; just let me get off this plane." A sudden sense of claustrophobia flooded through her body.

"Miss Croft, I can't let you do that."

"Why not?" Lara winced as the scar on her stomach pulled due to the tightened skin.

"The press are gathered at the exit, we have had orders that you need security." The flight attendant was growing weary of Lara's protests.

"Security? I'm not a celebrity. Just let me off this plane please." Lara had no baggage so making a quick escape, in her mind, was easy. Pushing past the flight attendant, she limped down the tunnel and into passport control. A letter from the British Embassy replaced her passport lost on the Endurance, the only possession she had with her. People stared at her as she walked through the airport; a mess of a woman hobbling with bruises and scars covering her body. Lara could feel the fellow passengers' questioning glances as she stood in line with nothing but her A4 sheet of paper. The security officers didn't care who she was after scrutinising the pass, motioning her to move on after they were ensured it was a real embassy letter.

"Finally," Lara sighed as she wandered through the 'nothing to declare' corridor.

"There she is!" Came a voice from beyond the exit followed by a charge of footsteps and blinding lights. Covering her face from the flashes, she was faced by an onslaught of people running towards her.

"Lara, is it true you found the mythical land of Yamatai?" Came a voice from the right.

"Are you going to accept the television deal? I hear the BBC are eager to have you." Another voice cut in, interrupting the young man chirping from the right.

"Lara! Over here! Let's get a picture of your wounds!"

"How do you feel knowing you caused the death of your fellow crew mates?" Lara turned to see who dared to say such a horrible statement.

"I didn't do anything," Lara shook her head trying to push herself through the crowd.

"That's not what I heard, you should be locked away for mass manslaughter," The reporter shot back, the words twisted in her stomach.

"You don't know half of what I have been through you ignorant bastard!"

"See, she's lunatic. Come on Lara what are you going to do? Kill me like you did Dr Whitman?"

"I didn't kill him!" Lara protested as more cameras were thrusted into her face eager to capture the moment that a young woman snapped in front of the world's press.

"Do you think your father would be proud of you acting like a savage?" The reporter goaded further.

Lara couldn't stand this any further, there was no way out of the vicious pack. Just run, run and survive. She could hear her heart thumping between her ears as a hand grabbed her arm. Turning around, Lara witnessed a burly man pick her up and place her into a car waiting outside.

"Miss Croft, we have been looking for you. You were supposed to be under strict airport security." The burley man said as the car drove out of the airport.

"I just wanted to get out of there."

"I understand, but you shouldn't behave like that in front of the press. They are animals and will pick on any weakness you have. Once you get home someone will meet you to discuss what further action needs to be taken."

"I don't think I have a home anymore," the thought of returning to an empty mansion filled Lara with dread. Being at university gave her the sense of normality that she had craved all her life, now she was back to rattling around a building that reminded her of a past she wanted to escape. She had a house, not a home.

"Of course you do Miss Croft, unfortunately I am unable to stay with you but as I said someone will be with you soon."

"Who are you?" Lara questioned the gentle smile who filled her with a tiny hope that everything would be okay.

"Sorry, I never introduced myself did I? I'm Graham, Heathrow security. I look after royalty and notoriety who travel through the airport."

"Of which I am neither." Lara said, slumping into the leather seat.

"Not royalty no, but you are very popular in the press at the moment; ever since your ship sank."

"How can I stop all this?" Lara asked, eager to be an invisible entity, like she was before Yamatai.

"You just have to let it all calm down; don't worry you'll be tomorrows chip paper soon enough."

"I hope so," Lara noted as the car drove into the circular drive of Croft manor, a place Lara hadn't stepped foot in for three years.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

It was the same but different, that would be how Lara would describe the return to her childhood home. The bricks, mortar, glass and steel hadn't moved an inch since she was first brought into the house by two very excited parents. Yet the house that stood before her wasn't that house, this was a doppelgänger, an imposter of a home. It had been for some while for Lara, who had the belief that enrolling on the Endurance excursion would mean an extra six months before she had to set foot into the glorified storage depot. It had been just over a month.

"Right this is where my job ends, hey come on don't look so sad. There's no-one here," Graham said gently to the increasingly pale face sat beside him.

"That's the problem," Lara stated as she opened the car door and began to walk towards the entrance of the building. She had updated the security system before leaving for university three years ago, changing the key lock for a pin code and thumb print one. Lara wasn't sure if it was a fortunate or unfortunate turn of events, that despite loosing almost all her possessions that she could still enter Croft Manor. She placed her thumb on the scanner to trigger a series of clicks and knocks behind the door. Taking a deep breath she pushed the heavy wooden door open and turned to Graham.

"I'm in, thanks for everything".

"Not a problem, as I said before there will be someone to meet you soon to talk about security; maybe tomorrow now as it is getting quite late. Looks like you are all set up anyway!" Graham shouted from the car as he waved goodbye.

Lara promised herself that she wasn't going home, yet somehow she had ended up back in the dusty relic. Sam and Reyes had flown to America; Jonah had moved back with his parents in New Zealand. Lara couldn't blame them for wanting to see their families even if it did leave her alone to face the demons that lurked in the United Kingdom. Her boots clunked on the floorboards as she moved across the entrance hall and under a stone arch. Snatching a dust cloth from a statue, Lara coughed as a cloud of dust and grime fell on her body revealing a well-built male figure sat studying a book. Around his feet lay granite papers scattered with hieroglyphics, binoculars and a trowel.

"I'm sorry," Lara muttered as she laid a bandaged hand on the memorial plaque, "I never took you seriously when I had the chance to listen. I know who I am now, or at least I know how much of your knowledge there is inside me." Lara sat down and lent on the statue, feeling the coldness ease her scarred back. Whirling her finger in the fallen dust, she wondered what her father would have thought of Yamatai, surely he would be fascinated how events from the past rippled into the present. The statues, Lara could imagine the amount of film reel that would be coated with images of the colossal carvings and paintings that she found. What would he have thought of her however, his little girl who would rather sit with a book than join in a social gathering? The same girl who slaughtered, without question, after two days on the shores of Yamatai.

_Eleven years earlier:_

"Lara, for goodness sake will you come downstairs," Lady Amelia Croft yelled from the bottom of the stairs, "it's your birthday party that your father and I have arranged for you. Please have the decency to attend it."

"I didn't want it in the first place," huffed Lara as she sat behind her bedroom door making a tent for her toy lions by standing Emily Dickinson's 'Selected Poetry' on it's cover. Downstairs was her worst nightmare, people. Many people, gushing and guffawing about tales Lara could only hope to understand one day.

"Has she still not moved?" Lord Richard Croft asked as he passed his wife of seventeen years on the stairs. Determined to bring his daughter out of her room, he rapped viciously on the door. "Lara, come out right now."

"No".

"Lara!"

"Daddy, I don't like those people and I'm tired".

"Oh dear, daughter trouble?" Came a broad Sheffield accent from across the landing, "I told you Dicky she was a fighter, do you believe me now? She's a Mulan not a Cinderella".

"She'll be something else if she doesn't leave that bloody room!" Noticing the tiredness in Richard's voice, Conrad Roth offered to help pry Lara out from her den of security. He knelt on the floor and whispered a short comment under the door. The door clicked open and a very sheepish looking Lara emerged through the gap.

"Hey, look at those swanky penguin pajamas!" Exclaimed Roth as Lara tiptoed out to meet whatever her father decided to verbally throw at her.

"Don't encourage her Conrad, Lara what are you doing being ready for bed?" Her father asked eager to get some answers about why his daughter had decided to ignore her own party.

"I've told you, I'm tired and I hate things like this," Lara sniffed.

"I'm tired myself of you, Lara Amelia Croft, never listening to me and your mother. How do you think we feel? Don't even think you are still coming with me to Greece next week, you have blown that chance lady."

"But Dad..."

Lara's pleas were useless, Lord Richard Croft had already left down the stairs to carry on the party without his daughter. He was delighted that Lara was finding her own voice in life, it just sounded too much like him. Lara was too alike to his own personality; steadfast, independent and much too loyal at times.

The doorbell rang

The sound reverberated through Lara's skull, knocking away memories that perhaps should stay firmly sealed. It seemed to never stop ringing as a hazy sunlight flooded the entrance hall of Croft Manor. Realising that it was morning, Lara slid up the statue to try to reach the intercom before whoever was on the other side decided to blow a hole through the door through incessant ringing. Muttering and cursing, she located the green button to offer a very rude good morning to the visitor.

"Well, Miss Croft, no need for that on such a lovely day," came a chirpy female voice.

"I was asleep, do you know how long it has been since I have slept all night? Who are you anyway?"

"Eileen Morris, I'm a reporter from..."

"Go. Away. Don't you have serious news to report on?"

"There's a few of us here, if you cooperate now then we'll leave you alone." Eileen's voice became much sterner and more business like. Lara hung up, wondering how the press knew where she lived. She peeked through the window to see photographers sitting in trees with long view lenses attached to their cameras. Reporters clustered around the metal gates, dictaphones in hand as they sipped fancy coffees. Lara was having none of this, it was bad enough having to fight for her life on Yamatai without fighting for it in her own property. She hobbled up the stairs and into her father's study, a room that had been left as a shrine almost, since her father was declared missing on a dig in Greece eleven years ago. Pulling a piece of skirting board from the wall under a Persian hanging rug, Lara thrust her arm into the gap and pulled out a pair of pistols, her fathers own that he only equipped on rare occasions when he felt he was real danger. As far as Lara knew, Lord Richard Croft had never used them.

Lara had it planned in her head, she would walk to the gates and threaten them to leave, shoot cameras if she had too. She was tired, hungry and extremely pissed off that even in her own house, dressed in the simplest of clothes, a black vest top, jeans and tatty boots, that she still had to take arms against people she didn't want to see or speak to. A dirty photo frame teared Lara from her internal battle; behind the glass stared a little girl sat on the knee of her father as he showed her a circular gold disc with three gems. She looked contented and a bit smug with her daddy's find. Lara looked out of the window to see the press continuing to camp outside. Slowly, guns loaded, she quietly exited the study.

She died-this was the way she died;

And when her breath was done,

Took up her simple wardrobe

And started for the sun.

Her little figure at the gate

The angels must have spied,

Since I could never find her

Upon the mortal side."

_Emily Dickinson, Selected Poems_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Kicking aside dustballs as she made her way down the stairs, Lara held her breath in anticipation of her planned confrontation. The reporters were still outside with their coffees and tablet computers, looking rather bored at the uneventful morning camped outside Croft manor. Down the stairs she crept, every so often making one of the steps creak under her weight. It was only when she arrived at the bottom of the stairs did she wonder to herself if this was the right thing to do. Would she just be encouraging the mythology that was now circling around her? The myth that she, Lara Croft, lead her colleagues to their certain death for her own satisfaction. Perhaps she was a remarkable woman who had found the biggest archeological discovery since Tutankhamun in 1922.

"And we all know what happened to Carter," Lara muttered as she flopped on the bottom step, burying her head between her knees. She felt the adrenaline drain away as the familiar feeling of tiredness swept over her body like a blanket, letting the sun that streamed through the large window at the side of the front door comfort her. Lara sat like for at least ten minutes, unsure on how to get on with her life when it seemed that everyone wanted her to revisit the past. The stream of light flickered unexpectedly, catching Lara's attention. She made her way to the window to find that only a few of the reporters remained at the gate. She analysed the garden but there was nothing in the garden that could block the light, the trees were too far away to make any difference and the bedding plants that used to live in the pots had died a long time ago. Starting to feel rather sickly, Lara made her way to kitchen. It was no use sitting around, doing nothing, she had to think of something to get her life back, her old life where the biggest problem was a missing page in a library book.

Propping herself above the sink, Lara took deep gulps of air to calm herself down. She knew this was stupid, she contended with difficulties, to a degree, on Yamatai and now she was wreck. She couldn't understand why she felt like this, or why she could instantaneously flame up in a rage like she did in her father's study. A metallic click broke her away from her confused thoughts.

"Hello," Lara said, unable to think of any other word to say. She noticed that the latch on the back door remained up, which was odd as she had checked if it were locked last night and the latch automatically falls back down. She was defiantly feeling sick now, not even her house, as much as she hated the place at the moment, felt safe. Lara quietly opened to door to find a smug faced man with camera pressed up against his chest, his face draining to pure alabaster as Lara laid a pistol to his forehead.

"Slightly illegal don't you think?" Lara questioned.

"Well, if you would cooperate, we wouldn't have to do this," the reporter spat, "what you are doing isn't exactly legal either."

"I won't tell if you won't."

"I can't exactly write much of a story on that basis," he grinned back.

"Get out".

"Come on Lara, a good looking, rich girl like you? Sell your story and you'll be down Boujis with Prince Harry before you know it. You sure could give Pippa a run for her money, with your...assets".

"I'm sorry, you think I spent three years at university and then went through hell and back to mingle with British royalty in tacky over priced clubs?" Lara said disgustedly. "And if all else fails at least I could take my top off?"

"See, now you are getting me!"

Lara swiftly kicked the reporter in the crotch as he keeled over in pain, yelling that she was a crazy woman.

"Now, get out. You don't have any idea who I am and what I have gone through. If, and that is a big if, I wanted to tell my story it certainly wouldn't be to lowlife unsavory little runt like you." Lara placed her guns on the kitchen worktop as she pushed the reporter around the side of the manor and back towards the gates. The few members of the press that remained were quite surprised to see one of their own being dragged by the woman they wanted to sneak photographs of.

"Let that be a warning to you all!" Lara cried as she pushed him out still grabbing his crotch with tears in his eyes.

"Ms Croft?"

"Go away".

"No, no. Excuse me Ms Croft," Lara turned around to find a stocky man running towards her.

"I'm quite capable of rearranging your sensitive areas too if you are asking for it." Lara yelled from down the path.

"No, I'm not with those, as you can see they are all going now as the police are coming. My name is Daniel, I'm your security advisor. Didn't Graham say?" He approached Lara cautiously knowing that she was on edge with anyone who came near her.

"He did yes, I'm sorry. Do you have ID or something?" Daniel showed her his card, satisfied that he was who he said he was, Lara invited him in to try to sort out the mess which her life had turned into. Digging around the cupboards she found a box of jasmine tea, the best beverage she could muster up after three years of absence.

Lara was still wary of Daniel despite his kind face and promising words. He suggested that security needed to be upgraded, as she imagined, to include more CCTV, better locks and perhaps a live-in security guard. Lara reluctantly agreed to them, if only to make sure her parents possessions were safe. Her own possessions, what little there were left, certainly didn't warrant the Fort Knox style system that Daniel was starting to set up. It was during this long meeting that Lara began to realise that Croft manor may have more potential than old ghosts and storage. More than ever she wanted to escape, again, but Lara knew at the moment she wasn't strong enough.

"Daniel?" Lara asked, drifting away from the daydream.

"Hmm," Daniel responded as carried on tapping on his laptop.

"Do you do like, home improvements?"

"If it doesn't include wiring it isn't exactly my forte; why what are you thinking?"

"Some kind of gym I think; you see this part here," Lara brushed some papers aside to find the ground floor plan of the manor and pointed towards the small ballroom, "I would like that as like a training area."

"It is a little big don't you think?" Daniel asked, thinking that Lara had defiantly lost her marbles now to turn a beautiful wooden floored ballroom into a gym.

"No, I don't think so. Look, when I was in Yamatai a side of me came out I never knew I had. I need to refine it I think. Practice some climbing and strength exercises."

"I wouldn't do anything at the minute if I were you! No offense."

"None taken," Lara smiled, she knew at the moment even going upstairs was a chore.

The pair discussed ideas for a few hours more, when the conversation turned to what happened on Yamatai Lara gracefully declined to answer. Daniel was a helpful man, but she still didn't trust him enough to divulge any details. She had felt there had been progress that day, at least in her head she felt a little better. On leaving Daniel questioned how she was ever going to clean up the mansion; shrugging her shoulders she muttered that she'd manage.

"I might know someone who could help you, might only be short-term but he's used to buildings like this. Used to be in the military but then he moved on to work for the English Heritage." Daniel suggested.

"Yeah, yeah sure just leave his number," Lara said tiredly, she had no plans to ever ring him. Last thing she wanted was another stranger hanging around. Daniel wrote the number down, placed it on a sideboard and said goodbye. Strangely, Lara felt rather sad when he left as despite talking about computer systems and wiring, it had been a small piece of normality. Chatting over tea and even the odd laugh. Picking up the piece of paper, Lara read Daniel's scruffy, scribbled writing.

"Winston Smith?" Lara thought out loud, "You sound strangely familiar".


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

13th April 1999

"Hey Lara, you're getting pretty good at your aiming," Conrad Roth exclaimed as he pulled out three arrows from the centre of an archery board. Lara beamed a toothy smile, revealing a small gap where one of her milk teeth had fallen out the week before. The two had really bonded since her father had left to for a dig in Greece, to Lara the past few weeks had been immensely fun with Roth teaching her many different skills including archery and handstands. She hadn't noticed that her mother had slowly began to retreat into her bedroom, sometimes Lara didn't see her for days except for a frail figure sometimes drifting down the staircase for a bottle of brandy from the cellar. Roth was glad, little Lara didn't need to know the harsh realities her parents were facing.

"Can I have a drink Roth?" Lara asked, placing her bow on the ground.

"Course you can love," Roth replied, his broad Sheffield accent shining through, "I'll stay here and practice so I can be as good as you!"

Lara grinned and ran back through the small Japanese garden and into the house. On entering the kitchen she sensed something wasn't right. There was a bag on the table with a chunky black mobile phone placed on top. Lara crept further in for a closer inspection; the fridge door was open and a cheery whistle came floating out. Peeping around the door she saw a man, of around retirement age, hanging up a piece of meat and rearranging jars on a shelf. Panicking Lara slammed the door and ran to the sink. She heard him banging on the door crying to let him out. It could have been nerves, but Lara burst out laughing at the absurdity of it.

"What are you laughing at kid?" Roth asked as he looked quizzically at the shaking bundle in front of him.

"I think someone has broken in," whispered Lara, the man's cries for help continued to filter out from the fridge. "I locked him in there so we were safe".

"Jesus Lara! You can't lock people in the fridge!" Roth ran over to the fridge, picking up a glass bottle on the way...just in case. He slowly opened the door to find the short, stocky man in a black suit shivering on the floor. Roth bent down and helped the man back up on his feet. Upon questioning it appeared that the fridge dweller was a local English Heritage employee who had been successful in acquiring a role helping Lara's mother deal with the house. It was safe to say that he was beginning to regret his decision.

"What is with all the noise?" Amelia Croft stumbled into the kitchen in a crumpled silk dressing gown and eye bags that covered nearly all her sunken cheeks.

"It's nothing," Roth replied, "Lara was just a little spooked by your new employee."

"Excuse me Mrs Croft," came a meek voice from the suited man, "I'm not sure if I can meet our arrangements, I don't think I am right person for the job".

"Winston, don't be silly you'll be great," Amelia exclaimed as she grabbed a glass of water.

"No, no, Mrs Croft I think I may have hurt my back in the fridge just then, I don't think I'd be that reliable with my ailments".

"If it is because of my daughter, ignore her. She's too much like her father and she's a bloody nuisance in my life".

"Amelia!" Roth harshly whispered as he watched Lara's face drop at the sudden insult from her mother.

"You are too soft on her Roth, the sooner she gets to boarding school the better".

"Mum..."

"Oh shut up Lara, you've just lost me a decent help around here now your father has decided to go god knows where. Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted?"

"Amelia, please can't you see she's upset?" Roth said sternly, Winston stood in silence, he couldn't believe the scene unfolding in front of him. It wasn't Lara that worried him, that was a simple mistake, it was her mother that made him wonder if he should leave as soon as possible.

"It's about time she got her head out of her dreamworld, I don't want her following in her father's footsteps Conrad can't you see? It's his personality that took him away from me and Lara is borne from the same mold. I hate it. I hate it!" Amelia threw a fruit bowl to the floor, watching it shatter on the tiles, apples rolling under the table. She stormed out of the kitchen in a whirlwind of white silk, watched by two shocked faces and one very upset little girl.

"Why does my mum hate me?" Lara whispered.

"She doesn't darling," Roth replied bending down to meet her dampened eyes, "she is just very unwell at the minute".

"I'm sorry Mr Winston," Lara turned to Winston to provide her apology.

"It's okay, don't worry. I'll look after your mum," Winston smiled.

ooOOoo

"I barely saw her again," Lara sighed as she curled her legs up to her chest and covered herself with a blanket, "She sent me off to boarding school until I was sixteen. Even during the holidays she locked herself away or travelled to Italy. I am so glad I had Roth, he was a true father figure to me".

"Now is not the time to worry about that Ms Croft, no point in mulling over the past," Winston said as he dusted yet another pile of books in the library.

"Easy for you to say, I am still having sleepless night...I don't want to end up like my mother."

"You won't, your mother brought it on herself and drunk herself to death. You are stronger than she was, you're a Croft after all".

"That's what Roth said," Lara snorted.

"Well, he was right, and you owe it to him to carry on your life as you want it, you are a very talented young lady. Don't worry about this place, I'll look after it".

"Thanks Winston," Lara smiled, "I'm so glad you came back here, not that I ever saw you that much. I just remembered your name".

"Your mother was a difficult person to be with, I had to leave after a few years...Lara are you okay?" Winston turned around to see Lara grabbing her chest to ease her violent coughing.

"Yeah I'm fine, must have picked up a cold from the plane, ow my bloody ribs," She held her side as the coughing rattled her cracked and bruised ribs. Suddenly the jade necklace, which Lara rarely removed, began to heat up and burn her skin. Lara grabbed the necklace and pulled it away from her chest.

"What the hell..." Lara whispered in confusion as the pendant returned to its normal temperature as swiftly as it heated up.

"Lara?" Winston questioned her confused face.

"Nothing, nothing. I'm just tired. The workers who are renovating the ballroom arrived early this morning and I'm just over thinking things." Lara's mind drifted back to the necklace, slightly scared by what had just occurred.

"Didn't they just," Winston tutted, "I'll tell them you are having problems sleeping again. You need your sleep tonight, with the press conference being tomorrow".

Lara groaned into her blanket, she had dreaded this day since it was arranged a week ago. Winston had persuaded her to hire a PR agent, much to her annoyance. She could see the sense that the agent could cover her tracks, but she increasingly wanted to know more of what happened, but Lara was not willing to cooperate; keeping firmly shut about what happened in Yamatai. While Lara was glad that she would see Sam, Jonah and Reyes again, she hated the idea that she would be questioned once more about her alleged murders and survival ability. She wondered why people couldn't leave her alone, the press were fascinated by her life and speculated all kinds of nonsense about why she was a suspected homicidal maniac.

The newspaper cuttings were starting to pile up on the table, the top one screamed out "Woman on the Edge: How Wealth, Power and Knowledge Created a Modern Day Myth", another spectacularly suggested that her father was part of the Illuminati who ran off to join a secret sect in Indonesia, her mother was plagued by an ancient curse left by Richard Croft on his departure as she knew too much about the society. A small opinion piece from the Archeological Times caught her attention on the end of the table:

_Yamatai or Bust: Creating the mythology of a young adventurer_

_By Rosalie Green (Editor in Chief)_

_I am sure during the past few weeks that news of the young archeologist, Lara Croft (21) and her scandalous adventures in Yamatai has filtered through your news feeds. Apparently the Endurance crew had sailed into the dragons triangle and found the mystical land of Yamatai complete with the sun queen herself, Himiko. We don't really know what happened and we as paper distrust all the unfounded pieces of 'evidence' that the general press has 'uncovered'. What we do know is that many of the crew lost their lives and we pay respect to their families, in particular Dr James Whitman (43) who has written many insightful articles for AT over the past twenty years._

Lara shook her head at that line, if only Rosalie Green and the rest of the Archeological Times knew what kind of spineless, horrid excuse for a human being he was.

_Nevertheless what worries me most is the mythology that is surrounding Lara. Perhaps she did kill to save herself, maybe she did find truly extraordinary things, but these were collected through unconventional methods that we, as an academic study, cannot qualify and it is, in all honesty, much too fantastical. She is a survivor, yes but is she the shining light that encourages young women and men to enter our discipline? No. There needs to be a separation between the people who search for artifacts and the discoveries themselves. What I like to call the 'Carter disease', the general public attaches themselves to one particular person which can leave a world of interesting but lower profile discoveries left untouched. As it stands, it seems she is nothing more than a sensational tomb raider that fills the quota for Indiana Jones style adventure on daytime TV._

"You know if you speak out, you can stop all the stories," Winston's voice broke the silent contemplation.

"I can't Winston, I just need to get back out there and do what I do best".

"You'll have to tell that to your crew mates tomorrow, you were not the only one on that excursion that survived. One of them are sure to say something".

"They haven't been through what I have," Lara stated firmly.

"Maybe not, but it is all fuel for the fire".

Winston exited the room leaving Lara alone with her thoughts. It had been three weeks since she had returned home and the press still hovered around now and then. She needed to escape, somewhere, anywhere; but first she needed to set the record straight.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

_What have I done?_ Lara looked out into the scrum of press in front of her. She already felt awkward, sat between Reyes and Sam with Jonah perched on the end of the table. It was very clear who the press wanted to talk to; the quick glances from bespectacled women followed by furious taps into tablet computers and the endless fluttering of camera crew placing Lara in the centre of the table gave a clear impression. This was not the way Lara wanted to regroup the crew after leaving Yamatai only a few weeks ago.

"Hey little bird, cheer up, once this is done it's done," Jonah said, leaning around Reyes.

"Yeah well it's not like we wanted to be here".

"Reyes, behave, It's for the best"

"For who Jonah? Us as a group or Lara as the national celebrity?"

"I thought we had moved past this," Lara said putting her head in her hands, "I don't have time for this".

"Neither do I. I'm very thankful and all that you helped us to get off that godforsaken island, but let's not forget it's you who led us there and it is you who has caused all this". Reyes pushed back her chair, catching the journalist's attention.

"Do we have a problem here?" Lara's PR co-ordinator swanned over from her post at the end of the table.

"Is there any chance I could move?" Lara asked.

"I'm afraid not, this set up provides the best focal point for the press".

"Told you, there's a reason only one of us here has someone to organise her media arrangements".

"Reyes, will you just shut up," Sam whispered down the table, "We've heard it all before". Reyes turned her head and huffed at the comment. A journalist questioned if everyone was ready to start the conference and Lara's PR nodded in agreement. The tension between the survivors began to show as the crew members nervously fiddled papers and cups. The crowd in front of the table began shuffling their belongings; flicking through the press release one last time and noted down potential questions. To Lara, the scene was starting to reflect Yamatai, hordes of people seeking blood who were prepared to create their own stories, rather than to listen to what would or could be said.

"Hello everyone, thank you for coming along; I'm sure you all have some interesting questions, however before we begin, I'd like to note that the crew of the Endurance are not answering any questions that involve their relationships with those who are deceased. This includes fellow crew members, relatives and friends. Also they have the right to refuse any questions that is put to them. Thank you again, we are ready to begin". Lara's PR shuffled herself to the end of the table. The words sounded as though they were protecting the crew, but in Lara's mind they weren't. She knew that the press could ask any question they wanted and use the reaction to gauge what the truth may be.

"First off, can you explain what the island was like?" came a voice from the back of the room.

"It was brutal," Sam replied, "beautiful I suppose; there were forests and lakes. Amazing art reflecting Japanese mythology. But it was hard to keep going, always fighting against the elements".

"And fighting the so-called scavengers as well? That must have been hard for you?"

"I wouldn't say we fought as such," Lara flicked her eyes to Jonah in disbelief at his comment, "We tried to reason with them and sometimes we just had to run for our lives."

"So you never attacked any of the island residents?" This was a different voice, a mans from near the front who sounded a lot more bloodthirsty than the first.

"We protected ourselves when we had to; most of the time we were trying to escape them." Jonah though out each word, hoping he wasn't going to trip himself up and accidentally tell the full tale.

"So why did they try to attack you? Didn't they want to escape too if they had been stuck on an island for years?"

"I think it is kind of like Stockholm syndrome towards the island, they had been there for so long that they had empathy for the island and wanted to protect it. It was their home I guess". Sam shrugged her shoulders, she didn't believe a word of what she just said and it seemed neither did the press.

"Hello, I'm Rosalie Green, Editor of the Archeological Times," chirruped a dainty blond haired woman at the front of the scrum. "I'm fascinated by the allegations that a mythology might be true, the Himiko theory. What could you tell me about her, did you see or find any remains?"

"We never saw her," Lara lied, "but there were many shrines and markings to indicate that if Himiko existed, that she probably ruled in Yamatai."

"We are assuming that this is Yamatai?"

"Yes, I am certain that the island we crashed on was Yamatai".

"What makes you say that?" Rosalie was relentless in her search for information.

"We found notes from people who used to live there and little artifacts like fans that would have been used in rituals. They looked as though they were dated from the time that Himiko was suggested to rule. There were whole temples for crying out loud! Whole temples devoted to her, statues and wall carvings."

"And did you pick any of these up? Photographs or film at least?" Lara shook her head while Reyes pursed her lips at such an idiotic comment.

"No offense Rosalie, but we were trying to survive. I can't say I had a bottomless backpack to shove archeological remains in".

"See, that is the problem I have with you Ms Croft. All what has been said by you and your crew mates is fascinating, but sensational. I don't believe you did find anything to do with Himiko, I believe a team in Japan have found her tomb but the Imperial Household Agency will not permit any archeological excavations. I think you may be trying to make a name for yourself. Which is understandable, the way the economy is at the minute, it is hard for graduates such as yourself to find jobs". Rosalie sat back in her chair to a chorus of nods and acknowledgements. Lara clenched her fist, the questions were going to far now.

"I had friends die on that island, their bodies are still there. Yet you think I created a fantastical story so can get a job?"

"It's understandable Lara, we'd all be tempted in the current climate".

"No, no, no. I'm not having any of this. You can shut up and listen to what we have to say because I am sick of this persecution".

"Lara, don't. You are making it worst for yourself," Sam placed her arm around Lara's shoulders.

"Get off Sam, aren't you tired of all this?" Lara pushed Sam's arm off her and ran her hands through the hair that fell in front of her face.

"Erm, members of the press I think that might be enough of those kind of questions, my client will resume with you shortly. It's just going to be a three-minute break, so please consider your questions carefully".

"Oh look who is causing all the fuss again, I'm out guys, sorry. I have a daughter to think about and right now she needs me more than you". Reyes stood up and threw her microphone to the table, Lara followed her down the hotel corridor. She wasn't sure what she was thinking, in a strange way she didn't remember what had just happened, only that she was here to do a press conference. Lara shook her head trying to rearrange her thoughts into something coherent as she caught up with Reyes.

"Reyes".

"Save it Lara, this is the last time. I don't want anything to do with Yamatai, Himiko, the Endurance and especially not you anymore".

"Me?" Lara stopped to catch her breath, although her ribs were healing they still hurt if she ran for too long of a distance. "I haven't done anything, except save your life".

"Everything is about you Lara. The wonderful Lara Croft, the anti-hero, the poor little graduate who lost her parents and made a big discovery. You weren't the sole survivor Lara, yet everyone thinks you are either the next big TV star or the shiftiest murder known to man."

"Are you jealous of me?" Lara laughed, "Because trust me, you don't want to be me right now".

"No, you're right, I don't. I just want other people to know that more than one person escaped Yamatai.

Lara watched Reyes storm through the hotel and out into the bustling midday London street. Lara questioned herself why she was doing the press conference. She certainly didn't want anyone else knowing what had happen and she didn't want to drag her friends through anymore situations. It made sense for her to just leave. The crew had moved on, yet she couldn't bring herself to stop questioning what happened in Yamatai and what it now means for the rest of her life. So she did what felt right. Lara walked outside the hotel emotionless. She was quickly absorbed into the London shoppers and packs of business suits. Wherever they took her, that is where she would go.

oOOo

_You have thirty-two messages. Message one:_

_"Lara, it's Sam. What's happened? Are you with Reyes? Your PR woman is going batshit crazy here. Please ring, I think they will have to cancel this conference now, so you can come back now. If you are not with her, ignore Reyes, you know what she's like, plus she still hasn't broke the news to Alisha, you know, about her father. That must be an awful thing to do. Give her a break now and then. I mean that really nicely. Anyway please ring we are all worried about you."_

_Message two:_

_"Lara, it Hannah from Nottings PR; I don't know what the hell you are playing at but you need to get your arse back here, right now. If you do not return within fifteen minutes I will personally suspend your contract. I am sick of your attitude. There are plenty of other higher profile clients that are crying out for our services. So get your act together and work with me. This thing is over now anyway. If I lose my job because of you I swear you I make your life hell in the press."_

_Message eleven:_

_"Hello, it's Rosalie from AT. Your lovely PR gave me your number, she didn't look very happy though. Apparently she has a meeting with her boss tomorrow. Anyway just wondering if you wanted to come and write an article for AT, yeah I know I don't believe you and I am a little bit sorry about before; but I'm sure you'd double our sales, which of course means more money for you. Guess you need it now huh? That big house of yours won't run itself. Oh and before I forget, I found some things of your fathers in my office. Lets talk soon yeah, trust me, It'll be worth it."_

_Message twenty-seven:_

_"Lara, please pick up this is like my tenth message. I'm really worried about you, where are you?"_

_Message twenty-eight:_

_"It's me again. Look I need to go back to America tonight, at least throw me a text. We know that you saw and did some horrific things but you need to let go. Jonah has gone now too. Don't be by yourself."_

_Message thirty-two:_

_"It's Sam, I'm on the plane now, I'll ring you when I land."_

Cars passed in an endless, noisy ribbon; Lara could hear them even as she nuzzled her head into the scratchy pillowcase. The bed was in a fairly bare room with a small cracked window on the far wall. The paint on the window pane had started to peel after years of sunlight and little curious fingers. For what it was worth there was a TV in the corner of the room, frayed wires taped together and screwed into the wall. It certainly wasn't luxury, but she was alone.

Suddenly the events of the day hit her at nauseating speed, the press conference where she retaliated, again. Reyes, what happened to her? Lara thought. All she could remember was Reyes's anger as she left the hotel.

Hotel...

Lara looked around and took in the grimy room in which she sat it. She had no recollection of arriving here, or where she was in London. Her black skinny jeans had a small tear on the knee as though she had fallen over and grazed her leg. Checking her hands and arms, Lara found that they too had new scuffs and cuts. Taking her phone out of her back pocket to check the time, Lara was faced by her own tear stained reflection in the shattered glass, the screen pixellated and refused to show any coherent messages. She threw it at the wall and watched as the phone splintered on impact.

"You were brand new! I can't have anything without it being destroyed." Lara shouted at the small pile of plastic and glass on the floor. Wondering what to do next, Lara sat on the floor in the fading light from the window. She was afraid, not of the memories of scavengers or the Oni; or even the press who acted just as bad as the inhabitants of Yamatai only armed with internet access instead of guns. Lara was scared of herself, she thought she was in control with getting her life together again. She had come to realise this was only the beginning.


End file.
